The Weight

in⋅ev⋅i⋅ta⋅bil⋅i⋅ty

/iˌnevədəˈbilədē/

noun

1. The weight of generational failure that rests on your shoulders; it permeates throughout the house, on your clothes, and follows you to school, to work, like a shadow

2. Certain to happen; unavoidable

3. Waiting with baited breath for the worst to happen; not from your own doing, but from something greater than yourself

4. After all, that is what you’ve been told since the day you were born

ex⋅pec⋅ta⋅tions

/ˌekspekˈtāSH(ə)n/

noun

1. A plan for the future that you know will never happen

2. You wonder what’s the point of having them when there’s nothing to live for; you’re going to die in this town anyways

hope

/hōp/

noun

1. Her eyes swallow you whole and for the first time you feel something in your chest that terrifies you in the best way possible 

2. Something you never expected to feel

free⋅dom

/ˈfrēdəm/

noun

1. You’ve been eighteen for ten days when you toss your bags in the bed of your truck; the engine revs and her long hair streams out the window as Elvis spills from the speakers

2. You never look in the rearview mirror

_______________

Originally penned June 17, 2020.

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blackout poetry, vol. I